


+3

by orphan_account



Series: The Barton Family [4]
Category: James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Missing Scene, planes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-02 23:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1063126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q tried to focus on Bond’s reply (which consisted merely of a noncommittal snort) instead of the sweat on his palms or the way he could actually see his hands trembling. He tried to think of data encryption systems or P versus NP – anything to take his mind off of the fact that he was currently flying precariously in the air in a metal death trap, thousands of meters above the surface of the Atlantic Ocean. </p><p>Shit. </p><p>(Part of 2, 4, 6, & 8, but can be read on its own, and the crossover part is very, very minor.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	+3

**Author's Note:**

> Happy (belated) Thanksgiving, guys! I've had a bunch of request for a 00Q scene, so here it is! I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> Trigger Warnings: a character does have a minor panic attack, but that's about it.

Q woke up. He blinked sleepily, his mind disturbingly foggy and his vision a little blurred. He tamped down on the panic expanding in his chest as he tried to orient himself, blinking again in an attempt to clear his vision. However, as he registered his surroundings, the narrow aisle to his left and the plush seat he was propped up in, he began to sorely wish that he was still asleep, or at least confused and oblivious.

He was, after all, on a plane.

As soon as he realized his location, Q froze. His breathing stopped, his lungs tightening in his chest, and his hands gripped the armrests so tightly he was surprised that they didn’t crack under his pale fingers.

Wait. That wasn’t an armrest. Or well, there was something on top of his right armrest…

“So you’re awake,” Bond said, an odd hint of amusement in his tone as Q removed his hand from the agent’s wrist as quickly as if Bond had been a live grenade. “I was hoping you’d be out for at least another hour.”

“007,” Q started, trying to steady his voice as he balled his now empty right hand into a fist and tried not to glance over to Bond’s wrist was a bruise was probably already forming, “I hope that you know that I will not feel even a smidgen of remorse when I regurgitate due to unexpected turbulence all over your pristine suit.”

Q tried to focus on Bond’s reply (which consisted merely of a noncommittal snort) instead of the sweat on his palms or the way he could actually see his hands trembling. He tried to think of data encryption systems or P versus NP – anything to take his mind off of the fact that he was currently flying precariously in the air in a metal death trap, thousands of meters above the surface of the Atlantic Ocean.

Shit.

“When did you drug me?” Q asked, his voice tensed to the point of almost sounding choked.

“I didn’t drug you,” the blond answered simply, the corner of his mouth twitching up ever so slightly in a way that made Q highly uncomfortable. “Your brother did.”

Q blinked again, a little more owlishly this time, his mouth falling open a little bit as he processed this new information. Honestly, it shouldn’t surprise him this much. Drugging him for the plane flight was just so – so _Sherlock_. He was really more surprised at himself for not having realized it.

“Well, you certainly didn’t stop him,” the younger man retorted, frustrated at the way his voice, like his hands, trembled slightly, undermining his angry tone.

“Of course not,” Bond snorted. “I’d have never gotten you on the plane.”

“Why couldn’t we have taken a boat or something! A bloody s-submarine would have been better than this death trap!” Q continued, his left hand which was still clutching an armrest turning a rather disturbing shade of white as his grip tightened even more.

“Q,” Bond started, leaning towards the younger MI6 operative, the real concern in his voice almost invisible, but still detectible. “Q, I need you to calm – ”

“Calm down? We are – ” Q hissed, turning to glare at Bond, only to be cut off abruptly by the feel of the other man’s gun callused hand resting on his cheek, his thumb brushing away a spot of wetness that Q hadn’t even realized was there in the first place.

“Has anyone ever told you how gorgeous your eyes are?” Bond asked, his thumb still caressing Q’s cheek.

Q blinked again and opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out. He closed his eyes and continued starting at Bond, his eyes wide. His emotions were in the most peculiar sort of tangle, a cocktail of embarrassment, fear, shock, hope, disbelief, and a whole slew of other feeling that he couldn’t even begin to identify at the moment.

“Honestly, I hadn’t noticed until my brother pointed it out to me,” Bond continued, his long, pale eyelashes framing his own bright blue eyes in a way that was highly, highly distracting. “Brian, that is.”

“You have nice eyes, too,” Q blurted out, blushing a bright red once he realized what he’d just said.

“So I’ve heard,” the other agent replied, and Q felt his chest tighten again as he remembered that clearly he wasn’t anything special…

“Do you have any idea how distracting your hands are?” Bond asked suddenly, removing his hand from Q’s cheek and instead grasping Q’s own hand lightly, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to the palm. “You’re always doing something with them, too. It’s impossible not to notice.”

“007, what are you – ” Q hissed softly, trying to ignore the way the lady sitting across the aisle from his was giving them strange looks.

The blond man didn’t answer, though. In fact, he didn’t even look up at Q, opting to instead place another light kiss a bit further up on Q’s wrist. Q could feel the way his lips were slightly chapped, could feel the slight scratchiness of the tiny amount of stubble on Bond’s chin against his sensitive skin.

“Or what about your neck?” Bond continued, leaning over to whisper in Q’s ear, his warm breath ghosting over Q’s skin and making his pulse speed up, his heart feeling as if it would burst out of his chest. “How would you like it if – ”

“We now request that all passengers sit down and fasten their seatbelts as we begin our descent into the Heathrow airport – ” a far too chipper American voice broke in, jolting Q back into reality.

Fuck. Shit. _Of course_  that was what Bond was doing! How could he have been so stupid not to have realized that all Bond was doing was distracting him from the fact that he was on an airplane. He was just another mark for Bond to seduce so that the mission could be completed, and the double o agent had succeeded with embarrassing ease. Shit, why hadn’t he seen this –

Q was broken out of his increasingly panicked thoughts by the fact that James Bond was, apparently, kissing him. Like, actually kissing him. On the mouth and everything. (Not that he was complaining about the palm and wrist kisses earlier, because those were also pretty amazing but still. James Bond was kissing him _on the mouth_ )

Q tried not to faint and continued kissing Bond, but after what felt like not nearly enough time, the other MI6 agent pulled back from the kiss, staring at Q with dark eyes, his pupils blown so wide that Q could almost not see the faint ring of bright blue surrounding them. Bond licked his lips absently, and Q was about to see if he could be convinced to continue the whole kissing business, but he heard someone behind him clear their throat pointedly. He turned around to find the lady sitting across the aisle from them blushing heavily, and, well, not exactly glaring at them, but still looking mildly disapproving. Q blushed even redder.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” she started, her eyes flickering back to look at Bond before returning to meet Q’s own gaze, “but do you mind maybe toning down the, uh, _affection_  a bit. The cuddling earlier was okay, but, uh… Also. You know. The plane’s landed.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Q replied, looking around and seeing that indeed, people were already standing up and retrieving their luggage from the overhead compartments. “We’ll just – stop.”

“Thank you,” she replied, her cheeks still bright red as she clearly tried not to stare.

Q blinked again as he noticed a teenager a few rows in front of them snapping a picture of the two of them with their iPhone.

“If you don’t like the attention we can continue this at my flat,” Bond said softly, leaning close to Q so that only he could hear. “Quillan.”

Q turned an even brighter shade of red, if that was even possible at this point, upon hearing Bond’s proposition. Without looking at Bond, he carefully took the blond man’s hand in his own, twining their fingers together and giving the other agent’s hand a light squeeze.

007 smiled.

\---

“Oh my god, Phil, you’ve _got_ to come look at this!”

“What is it, Clint?”

“Just come look at it!”

“This better not be another gif of – is that… your brother?”

“I know, right?”

**Author's Note:**

> Also sorry for my shitty drawing skills. But I was motivated.


End file.
